


Spoken

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, and a good dose of starlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He opens his mouth to speak and is struck by the limitations of language, the lack of words at his disposal. He's never been a poet, but by the stars did he wish he was one now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoken

He opens his mouth to speak and is struck by the limitations of language, the lack of words at his disposal.

He has never been a poet, but by the stars did he wish he was one now.

* * *

 

_"Once upon a time -- and by that I mean a whole lot of time, because all the good stories came from a long, long time ago- Anyway, once upon a time, there were two people, Pyramus and Thisbe. They loved each other greatly, but they weren't allowed to be together. Their families forbid it, so they could only see each other through a whole in a wall when all the others were gone. Yet their affection was pure and true, and the young lovers decided to run away together."_

* * *

 

He opens his mouth and closes it and repeats the action several times before settling for a rueful grin. Her brow furrows slightly with an unasked question, but she doesn't prod.

Instead of speaking, he slides his arm around her and tugs her closer, closing whatever small gap had existed between them, and he can't help but let his eyes slide halfway closed.

* * *

 

_"How do you know all these stories, Kili?"_

_"My ma," he admits. "She told us all sorts of legends, from dwarves, men, elves. You see, she thought we should know what's out there. What others believe in."_

_She turns to look at him and grins slightly. "That's beautiful."_

_There's a pause, and then, "Yeah. She raised us well."_

_"Will you tell me one? One of the legends?"_

* * *

 

He wants to look up at the stars, at the millions and millions of twinkles that he's never taken the time to look at before, yet she holds his attention. It's almost a shame, for she brought him outside for the precise purpose of looking up there, and he's busy looking immediately next to him. She notes his fascination with a smile that's more bashful than he's ever seen her, and he can't truly bring himself to regret it.

The stars may twinkle, he decides, but she glows.

* * *

 

_"Thisbe arrived at the garden before Pyramus. Oh, they decided to meet at a garden to run away. I think I forgot that part. But she got there first, and in the garden was a beast, its mouth bloody from a kill. She got scared and ran to hide in a cave, and soon after Pyramus arrived. He saw Thisbe's footprints and the beast and assumed the worst, assumed that Thisbe had been killed. So he took his sword and stabbed himself. Then, of course, Thisbe emerged to see Pyramus dead, and she took his sword and killed herself too."_

* * *

 

The serenity of their little picnic is almost surreal compared to the daily craziness of their lives. There is no one to object, to bring to light the centuries of distrust that have created the rift between their cultures. Rather it is Tauriel, Kili, and the stars.

She points upward and pans her finger across the sky, illustrating some constellation. He sees the stars but not the image they make, yet he still offers a nod.

* * *

 

_"That's horrible," she finally says, and he shrugs and shakes his head._

_"It's sad, certainly. But-" He cuts off sharply, mouth twisted in thought. "But it's a little beautiful too, I think."_

_And before he can explain, she does. "Because they loved each other, right? Because even though destiny was not on their side, they loved each other."_

_It is his turn to nod. "It's not part of the original story, but my ma always said that they ended up in the stars. That, I guess, because the stars did not grant them good fortune, they seek to make use of their sacrifice, and so they live on in the stars to help others whose love is forbidden."_

* * *

 

He is warm against her side as the night grows cold. They have been silent for the entirety of their gazing, though she now shifts slightly toward him and speaks softly. "That myth you told me, the one with the lovers."

He tilts his head in acknowledgement and waits for her to continue. When she doesn't, he offers a quiet "Yes?"

"When you were in Mirkwood, I spoke to you about the stars. You said they were cold. But now-?" She lets the sentence dangle, questioning.

"There are still cold stars. Yet not all of them are anymore," he admits. "That -- Pyramus and Thisbe, I mean -- was my favorite story as a child. I never thought I'd believe it as much as I do now."

He is not usually one for overt romanticism, a product of both his culture and self. Yet the stars stir something within him, and he hears himself continuing. "Maybe you're Pyramus. Without the beast and the stabbing and all, of course. You're- You're from the stars, though. You're from up there."

And there is his poetry, and the light flush of her cheeks is reward aplenty. He nods vaguely upwards and her gaze follows, and they drift back into silence and stare at the warm, warm stars.


End file.
